


Misery and Memories

by Buckybeardreams



Series: The Classifieds [55]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Child Abuse, Classifications, Daddy!Wade, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Foster Care, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Littles Are Known, Mommy!May, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Age Play, Toddler!Clint, Toddler!Kate, alternate universe - classifications, daddy!Phil, little!Natasha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29327976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buckybeardreams/pseuds/Buckybeardreams
Summary: Kate and América hate their current situation, Peter and Wade move out of Wade's apartment, and Clint struggles with the present and how much it reminds him of the past.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Phil Coulson, Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Peter Parker & Wade Wilson
Series: The Classifieds [55]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898527
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Misery and Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks @TheRoyalJay for editing this for me!! You're a life saver, seriously! All and any mistakes leftover are mine and mine alone.

Peter bit his lip and glanced around the empty space, his eyes traveling to the wall with four holes in it, where his floor-length mirror had once been attached. Wade was going to fill them, but he was still moving the last couple of boxes full of some toys, kitchen items, and a large collection of hair gel that Wade scoffed at Peter for owning. He sighed and picked up the one thing that was still sitting on the floor, a Winnie the Pooh stuffie that Tony had given him back at the start of the school year. It felt like so long ago now, but still no time at all. Time was just weird like that.

Peter was pretty sure that it had to do with time not being linear. He was also pretty sure that he could write a whole essay about why time isn't relevant and is merely a man-made construct developed to measure the gap between events in space. Not even the physical nature of time described by its general relativity with respect to events in space-time could distract him from his melancholy thoughts on this particular day. He sighed and looked longingly at the spot where his bed had sat for the last six months. His eyes shifted to look out the window at the nondescript view of bricks that had been his since he first started to visit Wade last spring. His reading nook used to be right under that window with pillows, fluffy blankets, and stuffed animals, but now it looks so terribly bare. The bare shelf reminded Peter just how empty he was.

"Hey, Pete, that's the last one. Are you ready-" Wade stopped, watching Peter watch the wall with a sad look, and Wade gave his kid a sad look too. "You okay, kid?"

Peter shook his head.

"No, I don't think I am."

Wade sighed and pulled Peter into his arms, his chin resting on the top of Peter's head.

"It's gonna be alright, kid."

Peter nodded, hugged him back, and tucked his face into his neck.

"I don't want to be Big anymore, Daddy."

"Then, don't be. I've got you, Petey, I've always got you."

Peter broke down and cried, clinging to his daddy, still clutching the stuffie in one hand.

"I miss Tony." He sobbed, sounding much younger.

Wade sucked in a breath and scooped the boy up, rocking him slightly.

"I know, it's okay, he'll be home soon."

"Tony wouldna let dis happen," Peter said, dropping further as he wiped at his eyes.

"Baby, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. This isn't just about the apartment is it?"

Peter just cried harder, shaking in Wade's arms.

"Shh, you're okay, bud, you're okay," Wade murmured, but the truth was that it wasn't okay.

There just was no getting around it, Wade felt like Phil had made the wrong call and he couldn't help but be upset about it. There's nothing in this world that would be able to pry Wade's baby away from him, and he couldn't believe that Phil and May had let Kate and América be taken away. They were just children for God's sake, Littles at that. Of course, they didn't know that Kate was a Little until Teddy told them, but still, Littles or not, the kids deserved so much better than that. Wade knew that Phil and May couldn’t allow themselves to be investigated. He understood the precarious situation they were in because they were not only in relationships with their Littles, but their Littles were in relationships with each other, but letting América be taken back to her foster family and Kate taken back to her parents shouldn’t have been an option.

* * *

América scoffed at the lady that smiled sweetly at her while gripping her arm just a little too tightly. She knew how this worked, she'd been here before, and she knew that Littles were legally supposed to be Little. In fact, schools had to accommodate Littles, because they were technically only supposed to spend a maximum of seventy-two hours a week Big. A lot of people disagreed with that, some feeling that Littles should always be Little and others feeling that they should always be Big, while even others felt that it should be their choice.

No matter what you believed, the laws were clear. Littles had to be Little almost all year. Up to one hundred and four days out of the year they could legally be Big, and that was considered progressive. To be fair, the fight for Littles rights was a fairly new fight. Traditional views still had a stronghold on the decision-making process, which is why the system tended to favor more traditional families and why América had originally been placed in this particular household. She knew that by refusing to be Little she’d get in trouble, but she never was compliant, and she had no intention to start now. She was just glad her foster father was at work.

The man was a brute, large and mean, with a twisted sense of humor, and his Sub was sweet as apple pie if apple pie was laced with arsenic. Most of their foster kids got by alright, staying out of the way, keeping their mouths shut, and never disobeying. América just wasn't that kind of a girl. She was stubborn, had no problem telling someone they were in the wrong and refused to back down from a bully. Three things that Kate loved about her almost instantly. Almost, because they'd gotten into a bit of a verbal match when they first met over a minor disagreement over who was better at baseball.

"Bad little girls don't get any playtime." Her foster mother hissed, shoving América into the closet and slamming the door shut.

She heard a click from the lock and groaned, sliding down the door and hugging her knees to her chest. She really should have just kept her mouth shut and pretended to be Little. Matt had said he could have her out of here within a week, and she really should be keeping her head down just as he'd advised. It was hard to just sit back and listen to people talk shit though. Her foster parents were just about as traditional as traditionalists could get and she really hated every moment she had to spend with them.

She was just glad that her foster father wasn’t currently home because his wife wasn't actually strong enough to manhandle América, otherwise, she most certainly would have ended up in the crate. The metal cage was made for dogs, forced you to stay hunched over while sitting or curled up in a ball while laying, and the bars dig into your skin painfully. It's where the bad kids went, but América had put up a fight and her foster mother had been physically incapable of forcing her into the small entrance. It said something awful about your life when being locked in a closet was the better alternative. She sighed and let her head fall back against the door with a light thump. She just really hoped that Kate was okay. 

Kate wasn't currently being locked in a room like her girlfriend was, but she was pouting miserably as her mom straightened out her ruffles and yanked a brush through her hair. She huffed in annoyance as she was pulled this way and that while being made picture perfect like a living doll.

"Now don't you look just darling, Katherine." Her mom said, trying to come off as nice, but the compliment fell flat.

Kate cringed at the name.

"Not my name." She muttered under her breath.

"Oh, don't mumble, you know I hate it when you mumble. Your father and I didn't pay for all those speech lessons for you to mumble like a baby. I swear you talked better when you actually were a baby than you do now." Her mom ranted, tugging a little harder than necessary as she put her hair up in God awful pigtails.

Kate whimpered, her head being jerked to the side, and her neck tilting at an odd angle before her mom released her hair, and she could right herself again. The only thing she was grateful for was that her dad was at a business meeting and wouldn't be home until later that evening. It wasn't much of a blessing, but it was something.

"Well, I think that's as good as it's going to get." Her mom said, pushing Kate to her feet and ushering her out of the room.

She was led into a room that she had come to despise over the years. It was large and filled to the brim with the most expensive children’s toys you could possibly imagine, everything from a play kitchen to a three-foot house. The walls were painted pastel pink, and the floor was marble with a plush rug in the center of a gated off area that housed all of the toys.

"No, I don' wanna!" She whined.

"Oh, quiet! Go play. I have better things to do than keep track of you all day." Her mom snapped.

Kate's bottom lip quivered as the gate was closed behind her, effectively locking her into her own personal prison. She glared at the hot pink Barbie house and it glared right back at her. The toddler stomped her foot, threw herself on the ground, and started screaming.

"Don't let her ruin her dress. If she gets paint or dirt on it I will fire you." Her mom threatened the terrified young woman standing off to the side, who looked like she wished she could be swallowed up by the floor.

* * *

Clint was crying on the floor, holding his purple hawk in his arms, and sobbing into its plush body. Tasha was sitting next to him, a hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles, and the other one signing to him. The toddler had refused to put in his hearing aids but was also upset that everything was so eerily quiet. It was a lose-lose kind of scenario. Tasha knew the real reason he was being so terribly uncooperative, even more so than usual, was that he was miserable. 

May was filling up a sippy cup for him at the moment, and Skye was giving Clint the biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes, looking like she might be about to cry herself. The sound of an upset Clint was the first thing that Phil heard when he got home. Clint was sitting in May's lap, sobbing, his sippy cup tossed aside and his stuffie clutched to his chest. May looked up at her husband and sent him a sad look, one that he returned. Kicking off his shoes and shrugging off his coat, he walked further into their apartment, Grant and Leo following behind him.

Skye ran to Grant, letting him scoop her up and kiss her cheek, and Leo murmured some soft words to Clint, ruffled Tasha's hair, and wandered off to find Jemma. Tasha ran up to Phil and held her arms up expectantly, and he scooped the girl up.

"Where's Brucie?" She asked.

"He's in his lab, princess."

Tasha sighed and squirmed out of his arms, stared longingly at the door, before looking over at Clint.

"The baby's crying, Daddy." She said sadly. "He's not happy."

"I know, Tash, I know. Why don't you go watch a movie with Skye, I'm sure Grant can put one on for you." Phil said, and Grant nodded.

"Yeah, come on, we can watch The Princess and The Goblin," Grant suggested.

Tasha's eyes lit up and she practically ran across the room, pausing briefly to whisper to Clint, "It's okay, Птичка.", before scurrying off.

Phil leaned over to press a kiss to May's lips, shifting his eyes to Clint as he pulled away.

"How long has he been like this?"

May sighed and pressed a kiss to Clint's head.

"He's been inconsolable all day, Phil."

Phil's eyes were clouded with concern as Clint peered up at him, his eyes red and puffy from crying and his bottom lip quivering. May had coaxed the hearing aids back into his ears, but it had done little to comfort the toddler.

"Daddy." He whimpered.

"Oh, little bird, come here, let me hold you."

Clint nodded and reached out for him.

"Hold you." He echoed, and Phil lifted him off of May.

"You're okay, baby, you're okay." 

"No' 'kay." Clint disagreed, shaking his head.

"No, it's not okay, is it, angel?" Phil agreed sadly, holding Clint close and rocking him gently. "He's right, Melinda. It's not okay."

May sighed and stood up.

"I got a call from Ms. Page today. She works for the Nelson and Murdock law firm. América's foster family is being investigated and at least for the moment, she's being removed and placed in a temporary home, until they can find something more permanent for her."

Phil's shoulders slumped with relief at hearing the good news.

"And Kate?" He asked immediately.

"She's also being moved to a temporary foster home while her father is being investigated."

"But not together," Phil said.

It wasn't a question. Their social worker knew they were in a relationship and the law prohibited them from being placed under the same roof. Phil sighed and sat down on the couch, glancing up at May.

"How'd they get moved so quickly?"

"Good lawyers," May said, her lips lurking up just barely.

Phil nodded, swallowing hard, and shushing Clint when he whimpered.

"Did we do the right thing?” Phil asked with a heavy sigh. “Because it doesn't feel like we did." 

May closed her eyes, wiping at unshed tears.

"We did the only thing we could, Phil. We did the only thing we could."

* * *

"Clint? Clint! Oh God, oh God, _nonononono_. Clint look at me, answer me, God please let him be okay." 

Clint could hear his brother's frantic voice, he tried to pry his eyes open, but his eyelids felt like they were being weighed down. His body ached all over and he kinda hoped he would die.

"Come on, Clint, stay with me."

He tried to talk, to say something, anything, but the only sound that came out was a low, pain-filled groan.

"I've got you, it's okay, I've got you. Don't worry, little bro, we're gonna get far away from here. I won't ever let that asshole touch you again. Do you hear me, Clint? I'm gonna keep you safe, I'm gonna take you far away from this hell hole."

His brother’s voice faded and Clint's eyes snapped open. He immediately started to fight against the arms wrapped around him, elbowing Phil in the stomach in his attempt to break free. Phil grunted and shifted their position, until he had Clint pinned under him, a hand coming up to brush gently through his hair, before he reached for the box that held Clint's hearing aids, swiping across the nightstand until his fingers located the smooth plastic container. It was small and resembled the kind of case that wireless earbuds came in. It served a similar function too, recharging them, while simultaneously keeping them safe from dust and dirt.

Clint gasped underneath him, going limp as he realized where he was and who he was with. May was gone, she'd left for work before five, so it was just Phil in the bed with him. He tried to calm his racing heart, taking comfort in the way that Phil's body hovered over him like a shield protecting him from the outside world. Phil pushed his hearing aids into his ears, one after the other, and Clint let him, turning his head slightly each way to give him better access.

"Phil..." He started, but trailed off, not sure what to say and not really wanting to talk about his nightmare, the memory from his past coming back to haunt him.

"I'm right here, baby."

Clint whimpered and pressed a hand to the back of his neck, urging him closer.

"Kiss me."

"Tell me you're okay," Phil said, his voice thick with concern.

"I will be, just kiss me, I need you."

Phil nodded and complied, pressing his lips to Clint's and kissing him like both of their lives depended on it. In a way, it felt like it did, and when the kiss ended and Phil made no attempt to move off of him, Clint just nuzzled against his cheek, his nose brushing Phil's, his lips kissing his jaw. Phil smiled softly and kissed his lips one more time, before rolling onto his back and pulling Clint with him. Clint shrieked but happily settled on top of him, reveling in the way it felt to be snuggled up in Phil's arms, with his nose pressed into his neck and Phil's chest rising and falling beneath his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Guys this part put us over 300,000 words, jesus, that's a lot of freaking words. I'm way too invested in this AU...
> 
> The blurb on the concept of time was influenced by some reading I did on the Wikipedia page for time lol
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, leaving kudos, and commenting!
> 
> You can always chat with me about the series on tumblr @buckybeardreams


End file.
